It was a such relief to do this, turning my cares over not only to my computer, but to God. I felt instantly released of a great weight—for a while, anyway. But since each day “brings sufficient troubles of its own” (Matthew 6:34), it wasn’t long before I had found all new things to fret about. Elizabeth’s swollen eyelid—did it require a trip to the doctor? Is Katherine having a good time on her trip to Washington? More importantly, is she okay? What do we need to do to keep both of our very old, but completely paid-for vehicles running safely and reliably? Will we ever get this house totally fixed up? And of course, the million-dollar question that pops up every summer: what will I do with my kids for three months? Every day delivers new burdens, and every day, instinctively I try to shoulder them on my own. Predictably, my limited strength gives out and I realize I‘m unequal to it all—again. You would think eventually I’d figure out that I was never meant to carry all this stuff by myself.

Psalm 55:22 says, “Cast your burdens on the Lord and he will sustain you.” I heard recently that the word used for “cast” is the same word describing the fishermen casting their nets into the water (Matthew 4:18). Just for fun, I decided to check this information out for myself. (Now you know what I do for entertainment!) In the Psalm, the word cast comes from the Hebrew shalak, which means “to throw out, down or away, to cast, hurl or fling.” The word used when Jesus first encounters his future disciples, the fishermen Simon and Andrew, is the Greek word ballō. Here the word cast means “to throw or let go of a thing without caring where it falls.” That sounds about right.

I’m intrigued as I picture these fishermen, spending hours each day flinging their nets into the water. It must have been tiresome. When they pulled the nets back into the boats, even unfilled they would have been water-soaked and heavy. Also, by definition this was a pretty hit and miss enterprise. The nets could return full, empty, or perhaps even disappear altogether. However, the description implies that they chose not to worry about such things.

It would have gotten harder to muster the energy to keep hurling those nets out as the day wore on. It must have taken a lot of strength, not to mention faith, just to keep going. To me, there’s something kind of heroic about this vocation. Fishermen had to trust their very livelihood to something that offered no guarantees other than a lot of work. Perhaps this determination to persevere in the face of uncertainty helped equip them to be Jesus’ disciples.

So often I’m weighed down and exhausted by carrying around the heavy net of my own burdens, my list of responsibilities and problems. It’s always full of all the work I’ve got to finish, broken items I need to get fixed, along with decisions I must make, questions I’d like answered, disappointments calling for encouragement, and offenses demanding forgiveness. Try as I might, it’s beyond me to ever shrink that list down to a manageable size. Sometimes it gets so big and bulky that I scarcely have the energy to lift it at all, let alone “fling” it anywhere.

However, sometimes as disciples of Christ we too are called to act heroically. When the task seems completely beyond us, still we are challenged to make the effort, take the risk. As we do so, we draw on God’s assurances. Matthew Henry writes, “To cast our burden upon God is to stay ourselves on his providence and promise, and to be very easy in the assurance that all shall work for good. If we do so, . . . he will sustain us, both support and supply us, will himself carry us in the arms of his power.”1

If we are to live a free and abundant life, enjoying a “net-ful” of God’s blessings, we have to resolve daily to hurl all our worries in his direction, trusting that he will catch them.

There are so many times when daily responsibilities leave me feeling captive to “the tyranny of the urgent.” I know I need to regroup, but who can afford to slow down? (Slaves usually don’t get much free time.) Eventually, though, the screaming madwoman inside will force me to stop and refocus. Getting back on track often comes from making lists. (When I’m really scattered, I’ve even been known to make lists reminding me of what lists I need to make!) Good lists are key to productivity. I never read a book on time management or home organization that didn’t stress the importance of making lists.

Lists restore peace, helping us redirect our attention and sort through the chaos. They allow us to corral scattered thoughts and unscramble jumbled ideas. They also help us prioritize things in a meaningful way. Where there are lists, there are bound to be things at the top of them. (Consider all those surveys that ask one to rank choices in order of importance.) I find this step especially helpful. Once I’ve brainstormed everything I could be doing the next day, all my responsibilities are neatly laid out before me. It then becomes much easier to identify what is essential tomorrow, what is important (but could wait until later), and what is relatively insignificant.

A pastor of mine once said, “The main thing is to keep the main thing, the main thing.” In the Kingdom of God, there will always be priorities. Where there are “to-do lists” for God’s people, there will always be certain things at the top of them.

Jesus was asked of all the commandments (God’s list of the stuff we must do), “which is the most important?” Love God. Love others as much as self. If we really want to keep the main thing, the main thing, we need to love, period.

Loving can take many different forms, and daily to-do lists can shift accordingly. Recently for me, “loving others” was buying cookies for my Bible Drillers, as well as Mother’s Day cards for some special women in my life. It was bringing lunch to my husband to spend a few precious moments alone together. And it looked a lot like taking my daughter’s choir dress to the dry cleaners, because I knew she’d rest easier once she could turn it back in to the school. Loving meant bypassing some things I wanted to do for myself, so I could run errands for others. While nothing I did seemed like a big deal, by the end of the day I felt like I had kept “the main thing, the main thing.”

We will continue to experience chaos, times when priorities get out of whack. At such moments, it helps to remember that we don’t serve a demanding tyrant, but a loving and gracious God, whose peace will sustain us through life‘s insanity. And in the end, our salvation doesn’t come from making great lists, but from keeping God and his people right at the top.

I’m indebted to my friend Cindy for convincing me to join Facebook. At first I was skeptical, seeing it as just one more thing to do. But since I do like to keep in touch with people, I finally decided to try it. It wasn’t long before I discovered Facebook’s advantages, and now I thoroughly enjoy it. What a great way to reconnect with old friends and stay caught up with current ones.

I especially love the whole "Add a Friend" process. To participate in online fellowship, Facebook requires the consent of both parties involved. I'm always so tickled whenever my invitations get this positive reply: “Jane Smith confirmed you as a friend on Facebook. To view Jane's profile or write on her Wall, follow this link.” “Woohoo! I’ve been accepted!” It’s even more flattering to receive an invitation. “Really? She wants to be my friend? How fabulous!” Quickly I head for the site that asks me to "confirm" or "ignore."

In the meantime, I’m intrigued by the terms used by the website designers. Why “confirm” and “ignore?” Why not “accept or deny?” “Decline?” Or even a simple “yes or no?” Maybe being “ignored” isn’t considered as harsh as outright refusal, and so the wording was designed to soften the sting of rejection. What’s more, Facebook doesn’t send alerts when the “Add a Friend” requests are turned down, so they simply disappear into cyberspace oblivion. It would appear that the system was set up so everyone could respond freely without fear of giving offense. The protocol of Facebook is pretty polite.

When it comes to courtesy, Jesus far outclasses Facebook. After all, he never forces a relationship, instead waiting patiently for our consent. To enter our lives, he must first be confirmed not only as friend, but as Lord and Savior. Sadly, too many people assume that to disregard Jesus is as harmless and inoffensive as clicking that “ignore” button. Surely that doesn’t count as an outright refusal, right? It’s not like denouncing him publicly, denying him like some modern-day Peter. What’s the big deal?

The trouble is, Jesus will not simply be ignored like some Facebook request. Whether we realize it or not, we’ve already made our determination. “Everyone who has ever been presented with Jesus has already made some kind of decision about who He is. You either believe He's a liar, or you believe He's a lunatic, or you believe He's the Lord.”1 C.S Lewis contends that “You must make your choice. Either this man [Jesus] was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse.”2 And these decisions have eternal consequences, as Jesus himself makes abundantly clear (John 14:6).

It would certainly be easier if our hearts were as easily maneuvered as the computer mouse, with salvation only a click away. However, in reality no one is ever more than a moment away from confirming Jesus. He’s always ready not just to be added to our lives, but to become our Life.